


Abandonment and Betrayal

by VanessaWolfie



Series: Whumtober x Kinktober 2020 nessa's style [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Betrayal, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Malnutrition, Past Relationship(s), Sirius Black Free from Azkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26935519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanessaWolfie/pseuds/VanessaWolfie
Summary: What if Sirius had broken out sooner, not able to go on without letting Remus know something. Correcting the assumption.Previously established remus/sirius.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: Whumtober x Kinktober 2020 nessa's style [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968436
Kudos: 56





	1. Percieved Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my docs for a while. It isn't finished, and I'm not sure how far I want to take it, but today, I felt like posting the first chapter. Hope someone enjoys reading it.

Being angry is what should be his first response. Not longing, that shouldn‘t even register anymore. 

_He tries his best not to feel hurt and betrayed. He knows what Remus has been told, what he believes, but maybe deep down, he never thought he‘d actually think him capable of it all._

He stands and stares at him, crouching on the floor, shabby fur with patches of skin showing through, skinny as never before and tries with all his might to look stern and dominating, after all, it wouldn‘t do to relax around a mass murderer.

_What hurts even more is the thought of how this perceived betrayal on Sirius‘s part will have coloured Remus‘s view of their relationship. Is their union now drowning in poison, a perceived ruse in his eyes? How long does he think- believe him to have been under Voldemort‘s rule?_

His body and wolf ache at the sight of him, this other that he swore to protect. He reminds himself that those promises were made while Sirius was only acting.

_How many times did he profess his love? How many times did he offer his vulnerable body and soul for Remus to do anything to? Did that mean nothing? He cowers even further, because if Remus really doesn‘t trust him anymore, he himself has no idea what Remus will do._

As the dog before him cowers, the doubts that always follow Remus creep back in. How is it that a mass murderer cowers before Remus? Is it because he thinks he‘s going to buy into the same ruse again? Is it just that he doesn‘t have a wand?

Curiosity takes over and Remus grabs his wand and points it to the dog. He can see its breathing increase and the dog seems to be doing its best to disappear.

“I need you to transform over to human. No matter what I do with you, you need to be human for it.”

The dog does look up and soon enough, Remus can feel the magic in the air. It smells a bit off to Remus’ sensitive nose, something sick in it. What worries him more is how long it takes for Sirius to appear.

When he finally manages, Remus can’t really believe it. He looks worse as a man than a dog. Although to be expected as he spent three years in Azkaban, Sirius looks more like he’s a hundred, than his young 25 years. Remus always predicted that Sirius would stay handsome forever, but then, he never thought Sirius would go through this ordeal. With no fur, you can really see how bony he’s become, clothes collapsing against his body.

With visible difficulty Sirius drags himself into a sitting position against the wall. Tucking his knees close, he finally looks up at Remus with the most broken look.

“You might as well kill me now. I won’t be conscious for much longer.”

Remus recoils. Kill? No. He wouldn’t do that. No mater how many deaths he’d caused, this man was weak and desperate, without defence. (Remus wouldn’t admit even to himself, that it was more about his unwillingness to break the sacred vows he’d sworn to this man, to protect and love him.)

“I won’t kill you. I’ll take you to the Ministry as soon as you’ve said why you came here. Breaking out of Azkaban and travelling across Britain just to break into my home and pass out doesn’t sound like a smart idea. Your plans might not always have been good or responsible but they were never dumb.”

“Always so rational, Moony. Dementors don’t really cause one to be more rational though. But they couldn’t take everything from me. I knew I couldn’t disappear until you knew the truth. Truth and obsession, two things they can’t touch.”

Disappear? Does he mean escape somewhere abroad? He can’t possibly mean death. It had been over a decade since either of them had mentioned suicide as a method of improving their situations.

“I guess you have a head full of thoughts, doubts and questions, so I’ll just go ahead and say my piece.

First of all, I love you. No matter what, just as I said in my vows. No don’t reply, don’t interrupt. You wanted a reason for me being here, that’s why.

Second, that night was different than they said. In the months before Halloween that year, me and James started thinking of the risk of me being in the midst of the war while being the Secret Keeper. If you or I were caught, would I let you die so they could stay safe? What would happen if I died? The sources were vague and unclear. I asked James to keep you out of the decision, knowing you would protest to me giving them up for you. We came to the conclusion that nobody would suspect we’d pick Peter.

We swapped, and I slept better. Such a false comfort. It was only a few weeks until one night, I came to deliver groceries to him and couldn’t find him. I took off, after him and I still could not catch him before, before I found Harry. I knew something had gone wrong since I could remember the house, but even worse was the ruins. After Hagrid took off with Harry, I followed after Peter’s magic trail, easy to do after all these years, but maybe that night it was too easy. He’d planned even for that.

It was Peter who killed the Muggles. It was horrific, scent of burning flesh, but also, the scent of his transformation magic. He went straight into the gutter. Never should’ve trusted a Rat.”

Sirius stayed still throughout the story, completely exhausted, but Remus ached at how broken and emotional his voice was. Thinking of it, he realised Sirius had probably never had the opportunity to tell it before.

“At first I was too consumed by grief to even think. When I finally woke up from the fog, I realised that there were still people alive that should believe in me. So I waited for you, or Albus, or even Minnie to come and get me out, or at least visit. I waited a year for something to correct this mistake, but a year and a half into my sentence I started to doubt it.

I started trying to transform, which took a while without a wand and proper health. I learned that if I sat and obsessed over my innocence the dementors left me alone. If I was a dog, they didn’t notice me.

I realised my best bet was out through the bars, but I didn’t quite fit through them yet, so I cut down on eating. It made for more difficult transformations, so I had to practice for a while. As soon as I managed both I was out of there.

My first and only thought was coming to you. If you still think I belong in Azkaban I’ll go willingly. But then it will be on you that Pettigrew is still out there, maybe sitting in the sewers below Harry’s own house.”

With that said, Sirius sags against the wall. It was draining to let loose a whole recount of the last three years. It made him confront the reality of it all. Of having to escape prison just to tell his side of the story. He closes his eyes ‘cause it’s too hard to keep them open. He’d spent every ounce of energy to get here, to tell his truth but now there was almost not enough left to let him hear Remus’ reply. Maybe it’d be easier to just fall asleep and wake up as they transported him to Azkaban again.

“I won’t send you back, at least I’ll wait a while. I’ll send for Albus and a bottle of Veritaserum if you’re willing to submit to that. It might take a while for Albus to get it and come here, so I guess first thing we’ll do is try to improve your health.

Sirius can’t believe it. Remus … he can stay with Remus. He’s not even yelling, he’s being … rational.

“Honestly, Sirius, you can go to sleep now, you look like you need it.”

With that, Sirius slips off.


	2. Waking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius is surprised to wake up in a bed

Warm. Soft. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. He knows this is only his brain trying to comfort him, as his body is shutting down. Knowing that doesn’t make it any less good, any less comforting. He likes this feeling, where he’s warm and the belief is that everything is alright, like they dreamed of those summers at the Potters’ house, snogging and exploring each other. That things are as they should, not abandoned and cold.

Maybe he should never open them and just enjoy these feelings of warmth and safety. It won’t take long for him to die at this point.

Maybe Remus has accepted his last words as betrayal and lies. Maybe he’s moved on from them and doesn’t need to hear that they were true. _Moony, go back to sleep, I’ll be here come morning. I love you._

Sirius wasn’t there come morning. He’d gone to find Peter, but instead found Lily, James and baby Harry. He’d lost all his friends that night and the only good thing was that baby Harry was safe.

“Might as well open your eyes. I’m a werewolf remember, I can tell when you’re faking it.   
  


Sirius shoots up. He has to grab the bed not to topple over again, but he manages to sit. _The bed_. The memories come flooding back and he realises he did it, he actually got to tell his story.

“I got here. I actually got here,” he whispers as he opens his eyes.

Remus is staring at him startled holding vials of something and there’s a bowl of broth by the table.   
  


“Thought we might just start getting some food in you. I don’t even know how to figure out how long you’ve been traveling, but to get from Azkaban to here on foot, you’d have to be out there for at least a month in your condition. I could smell that you’re hurt, so there’s one potion for healing and one for strength and yet another to help you keep the food down, I don’t know what you have been eating, but it can’t have been much.”

Sirius wordlessly grabs the vials one by one and downs them. They taste like hell, which he vaguely remembers is always the case, but at this point, it doesn’t bother him, as Remus is right, food has been sparse and hard to get and he’s been desperate enough to eat whatever is near, no matter the taste.

“I’ve sent an owl to Albus, asking him to come meet me when he has time and bring a vial of Veritaserum with him. There’s no telling how fast he will get here, but I think we can very clearly just start with getting you on the way to health. You’d get better faster with a proper Healer, but I do have some experience with potions and the like, so we’ll make do.”

Sirius tries to commit every second of this to memory. If he does go back to Azkaban, he’s trying to instil this as a bittersweet memory, hopefully not happy enough for them to take it straight away, because even though Remus is being pleasant, this has never been how they interact. So formal, rigid, and god forbid, polite.

“I’ll leave you to eating, and in there is a bathroom where you can bathe and I’ll grab some clothes and put them in there as well. When you are done feel free to either go back to bed or come join me in the kitchen.” Remus says and then he’s gone.

Sirius keeps eating, savouring every bite, his body so happy to have some food that Sirius feels better already. He knows it’s the combined effort of the potions, the good sleep and the food and he’s been starving for long enough that it feels life-changing.

It takes some effort to move from the bed to the bathroom, he’s not used to walking on two feet anymore, but the strength he’s gained in the last hour helps him make it. He strips off the tatters that are his clothes at this point, so torn they weren’t doing much of covering anyway and drops them in a pile on the floor.

He looks at his reflection and all he sees is his mother. A strange sight, he’s never noticed a likeness to her before, but now, hair a mix of grey and black like hers, cheeks sucked in and narrow waist, not even starting on his pale skin. He’d probably scare himself if he dressed in woman’s’ robes at this point.

He tries to look past that and to what matters a bit more. He’s bruised, almost all black and blue and there’s quite a few cuts on his arms and legs from running as a dog through the countryside of England. He has a gash on his back and he does cringe, because it looks like he’s been whipped with something, but he’s sure it was either when he had to cross the heavy river or maybe just a branch scraping him as he ran in between the trees.

One thing is for sure, he doesn’t look like himself anymore. He looks nothing like the man that said those words to Remus, the ones that haunt him still today “ _Moony, go back to sleep, I’ll be here come morning. I love you.”_

He manages not to drown himself when he gets into the bath and he needs to drain the water 5 times before it stops turning brown. The soap is a new one, it’s not a smell Remus used to use, but Sirius is also afraid of what the wolf will think of him wearing _Remus’_ scent.

He decides he has nothing to defend himself with, so better just face the music. He wants to cut his hair, but he doesn’t have anything to do it with and he’s not entirely sure where he’d put the hair. He drags on the clothes that Remus left him and soon realises they’re not quite the right length. His feet drown in them and he has to fold up so he doesn’t trip walking out.

He’d been planning to go out to the kitchen and join Remus, hoping to talk to him more and maybe eat a little more, but he’s so tired after the bathing that he just drags himself over to the bed and goes back to sleep.


	3. Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a flashback to how Remus was doing in the time between You-Know-Who's death and Sirius showing up on his doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was sort of written because of a whumptober(and kinktober) prompt, from a list I'm contemplating using a bit (not filling completely). 
> 
> 29\. ~~Shibari~~ / **abandoned**
> 
> Hope you "enjoy" this.

He remembers, all too vividly how it felt, to wake up to owls and owls of stories, gossip and judgment.

It had taken all day for Remus to comprehend what had happened, he’d begged Albus to let him go see Sirius, but Albus had held him behind, pointing out it would not due to remind people of his connection to Sirius, his connection to the Potters, or his infliction.

_“Go hide, Remus. I’m sorry it has to be this way, my dear boy, but I can’t think of anything good coming out of you being in the spotlight now.”_

Remus had followed his advice, gone back home, destroyed his and Sirius’s flat in a fit of anger, confusion and the worst of all, the one he barely wanted to admit to, _abandonment._

They’d left him. He’d gone to Hogwarts so thankful of Albus’s generosity, but he hadn’t been expecting to befriend anyone, but then, they had and then they’d _promised_ , never to leave him, never to abandon him.

He knows it’s irrational to blame a dead man for leaving, but he does. (He also knows it’s not that abandonment that feels the worst)

He leaves the flat soon after that. He can’t very well stay there, with the lingering smell of _mate_ , (no, not mate- liar, traitor) and finds himself a little house in the middle of nowhere England.

His parents are gone and his friends are gone and Albus sends him updates, but they’re short-hand, and impersonal, like Remus hadn’t been willing to risk his life for Albus’s _Order_ just a month ago. Like they hadn’t just fought and won a war, the cost horrendous.

He only notes two things from Albus’s letters. Harry’s safe, _elsewhere_ , and that hurts, because he’d thought maybe he’d at least be considered. Or like … told where to visit.

_But it_ _’s best not to draw attention to the connection. You wouldn’t want the boy to have that stigma around him, now would you?_

Remus isn’t even sure anymore if it’s Albus’s voice whispering that in his ear, or if it’s his own.

Life feels awful for a while. For a whole year, he lives off of seasonal work, helping farmers in short Apparating distance, getting dirty and sweaty and forgetting during the hard work what he’s so horribly haunted by.

_I_ _’ll be here come morning. I love you._

Even in the darkest of night, the dog had played his role and it cuts Remus open wide at night, to dream of those words, and his soft lips brushing his hair as they kissed him before taking off for the last time.

They’d talked about how horrible it was not to spend Halloween with little Harry, and Remus couldn’t escape the questions. _Had he known, even then, that it would be that night. That they_ _’d never see James and Lily again?_

The thoughts, the images keep Remus awake after he wakes from nightmares, but he tries his best to get sleep, because his work is difficult.

(He doesn’t get a full night’s sleep the whole first year)

The anniversary of the Potters’ death (cause he refuses to call it “The night You-know-who got defeated”, it doesn’t feel like a night of celebration to him) is a full moon. Remus has never been hurt so much during a transformation. He has to send a Patronus to Poppy, knowing she’d help him even now. She fusses over him and for once since the whole mess, the world feels right again, until she starts up something about how unlucky he is, how horrible it must be and Remus remembers again. He’s alone. Abandoned.

She leaves him with a potion-book specifically for healing and nourishment potions and pets his head and says it’s time he suck it up and learn how to brew those himself.

He makes an effort and brewing, although it had never been his best subject, reminds him of magic again.

He sends out owls to magazines and papers, and gets some work writing articles on every day defense spells, more for creatures found in your backyard than Dark Lords and it fills him with a sense of purpose that’s been missing. (He doesn’t think back on why it’s been missing, he tries not to think of the past anymore)

His life isn’t glamorous, and he doesn’t befriend people again, even his neighbors know him to be a recluse and leave him in peace mostly.

Albus keeps sending updates, letting him know what Death Eaters are captured, what Order members survived the last days of war.

One day, he gets a letter saying that Severus escaped going to Azkaban and he rips it up into little pieces in anger. Why does that man escape hell, when the Marauders have all gotten a ticket to there? Is it some sort of horrible karma for all the things they’d done to him in school?

He sinks into a bottle of whiskey for the rest of the day, ignoring his writing assignments and starts talking to shadows.

He cuts himself off in the middle of a plea to an invisible Padfoot, knowing he can’t go down this road. He shouldn’t try and gleam comfort from that ghost. From the traitor.

Maybe that’s the lesson here. The ones you thought were obviously the enemy, likes Severus, are pardoned, get to continue on with their life, as sparse as they may be, and ones you thought were the real deal, the guardians, _mate_ , have abandoned you for hell.


	4. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius finally makes it to the kitchen. Things don't go smoothly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is a side project, and sort of gets written as I feel like it. I'm not sure exactly what direction I'm taking this, so read at own risk. I'm enjoying bathing in the pool of hurt and angst.

Remus is sitting at the kitchen table sipping tea as he tries not to think of the guest he has in the bedroom. He’d transfigured his couch into a bed for himself, but it hadn’t been of much use, he couldn’t sleep. His brain just ran a loop of questions. _What if he_ _’s telling the truth_? _What if he actually loves me? What if I just left him in there? What if he_ _’s lying now still, and this is some big trick?_

Well, if it was the last, Remus wasn’t sure how he was going to help Sirius’ grand plan. He doesn’t have any contacts any more. He’d broken contact with the few Order members still alive and sane when he couldn’t look at their questioning and pitying faces anymore without growling with rage. He hadn’t been trusted with Harry’s location, which had _killed_ him inside and even though he requested Dumbledore now, he isn’t actually in any good contact with him.

He startles a bit when the bedroom door opens and Sirius, swimming in Remus’s clothes, bones bare and cuts colouring the few spots of skin showing around the clothes, walks out. Remus sucks in a breath. His hair hadn’t been so clearly _long_ when it was clamped with dirt, but now, clean, he had hair as long as Lily’s and it, his pale face and hunger-sucked cheeks made him look exactly like someone Remus hadn’t seen for years. He’d only caught a glimpse of her hard, serious face once a year for their first years at Hogwarts, just when the school years were finished and they’d be picked up at King’s Cross and it still makes him shiver to be reminded of her.

“I know, I look eerily like her, this way, don’t I?” Sirius asks, and he almost sounds like the old Sirius, always ready to make something into a joke. “I almost fell back when I saw myself in the mirror. Anyway, could you maybe shrink some of these clothes so I won’t trip?”

Remus nods, and then asks, his voice quiet and careful, trying not to let his tumbling feelings spill out. “Want me to cut your hair too? It’s the easiest thing to fix.”

He was quiet when Sirius nodded, just stepped one step closer, and held out his wand. Sirius didn’t flinch or change his posture into a defensive one, even at the wand. He stood completely still as Remus’s charms and transfiguration altered the clothes and cut his hair, banishing the cutoffs before they hit the floor.

“There, now you look slightly better.”

Without more talking, Remus lays out food, potions and drink for both of them, nudging the potions closer to Sirius. When the shirt rides up a little, Remus gets a glimpse of more cuts and bruises.

“These are going to need healing charms. I can do most of those. Might take a while though.” Remus comments, while looking at it, and Sirius covers it up quickly, looking up to Remus, before tilting his head to the side and quipping, “I’m starting to get what you hated about us looking at you after transformations. This is horrible,” in a voice that’s slightly icy, but like he doesn’t have the energy to fully get mad.

Remus looks away at that, frustrated that he was pitying this man, who he doesn’t know if is to be trusted or not. If he is what he pretends to be.

“Well, you know what I’m going to have to ask, you did it plenty of times,” Remus cuts back, cause he doesn’t have malnutrition keeping him from getting angry.

Sirius sighs and looks away, looking smaller still, which Remus hadn’t thought possible.

How nice. He’s made the escaped convict, that’s hurt and starved cower once again, he’s a _real hero_.

Sirius strips out of the shirt and Remus tries not to think back and compare the body in front of him with the body that used to share his bed, tries to be cold and professional as his wand laces up the different cuts and wounds, but it’s hard, cause this is the man, but it’s not the body, not really. This looks nothing like it. Nothing like him.

Sirius soundlessly dresses again when Remus’s wand lowers, and he pushes the tea pot to Remus and Remus aches at the quiet, mindless gesture of love and care that he used to savour. Now he just grows hot with anger. He can’t very well just rush out of the house, escape, because that could mean that _Sirius_ escapes, and that would be wrong. All of this is wrong.

Sirius looks at him when he’s drained his tea again, but when Remus just glares back, he cowers yet again at the rage swimming just below the surface.

This in turn, makes Remus more angry and he huffs, before standing up to pace. He hopes it will calm him down, but instead, it seems to only make him more angry. He eventually just grabs a pile of paper, cheap Muggle paper he used for scratching down notes, and he starts flipping off instant transfiguration from paper to porcelain plate, and then he throws them at the wall in front of him. The wall that the Realtor had said could be perfect for family pictures and Remus hadn’t wanted to hang any up, not having _family_ anymore. It’s been empty since he moved in, and now, it’s been slammed with transfigured plates.

They make a satisfying sound and he’s almost feeling a difference to his rage by the 3rd plate, but then Sirius speaks up, his voice trembling slightly, “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you _this_ angry.”

Remus just glares back at him and barks back, “That’s cause I used to escape away from _people_ when this happened, but now I’m stuck here, making sure you don’t _escape_ , ain’t I?”

He’s almost angry enough to be petty and satisfied at the look of shame, hurt and guilt in Sirius’s face, but before he can really feel bad about it either, he turns back to the wall and throws another plate. He swore at a very young age never to attack people in anger. Never attach first, never if avoidable.

He won’t attack Sirius, he won’t take pleasure in this, won’t take his anger out on the man, no matter what kind of heartbreak and grief he’s caused.

He’s not sure how many plates it takes him to finally believe that, but the wall is slightly dented, and the pile of paper is finished.

It’s not until he’s charming the dent away that he realises that he _hasn_ _’t_ gotten this angry, not really, since he accepted the truth about that Halloween three years ago.

He can’t help but scoff. Sirius Black always did make him feel intensely.


	5. Heart breaking in slow motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and then Albus arrives.

Sirius thinks about fighting Remus when the man offers his bed again. He doesn’t want to be imposing on Remus like this, throwing him out of his bed, throwing him into such turmoil, it all feels so wrong.

He realises he hadn’t really expected Remus would … keep him. He just wanted to get to him, tell him the truth, but he had no plan for after that. He had been sure he’d just be thrown back into Azkaban, or killed on the spot. If Remus had believed that he’d done it for _three years_ , surely he wouldn’t just suddenly start supporting Sirius.

He twisted on the bed, not finding much comfort in the warm and soft bedding as he thought that Remus hadn’t really started supporting him either. Sure he’d healed him and fed him and Sirius was grateful, but he was so angry, and he was still so suspicious and hurt and Sirius almost couldn’t take it to just sit there and wait.

Wait.

It was another few days like this, Remus healing him, feeding him, huffing and ignoring him and Sirius trying his best to enjoy sleeping in a bed. It was hard, the longer he was there, the less comforting it felt. He wasn’t getting Remus back like this. He was just … breaking both their hearts again, forcing them to stay so close, but yet so far apart.

He’s actually pondering an escape attempt, staring at his tea one morning, when the fireplace flashes with a Fire-Call.

“Remus Lupin?” a voice calls. Sirius knows he knew it, but he can’t place it. Most of his memories are swimming in fog these days.

Remus glares at Sirius as he stands and goes to the fireplace. Sirius doesn’t even consider escaping. This must mean someone has something to prove his words to Remus.

He doesn’t eavesdrop, but it isn’t long until Remus comes back to the kitchen crook, with none other than Albus Dumbledore by his side.

“I see,” the man says, in a tone that does not betray if he’s surprised to see Sirius in Remus’s kitchen or not.

Sirius feels the man look him over and shivers. He doesn’t much like looking at himself these days, much less let others do so.

“I have the Veritaserum, I’m guessing it is to confirm something or other that he’s saying? Since you’ve let him stay here?” Albus asks Remus and doesn’t address Sirius yet.

Remus nods, and glances quickly to Sirius and then back to Albus. “I have to know he’s lying before turning him back to the Ministry, Albus. I can’t …,” he says, before cutting himself off.

Sirius knows he’s choking down sobs, and feels that should help his case, but all it really feels like is heartbreak.

He opens his mouth as Albus withdraws a small vial from his robes and surrenders to the drops of Veritaserum spilled on his tongue.

He feels fog settle around his thoughts again, and almost panics, before the potion forces a calm to settle in him.

“I’m guessing it’d be best if you did the questioning, to begin with, since I don’t know what he has told you that you think matters here. I’ll start with a few standards to check if it’s working, but then you can go.” Albus says and Remus steels himself.

It feels strange to see Sirius with such a vacant look on his face.

“State your name, date of birth and stature.”

Sirius rattles off his names and birth date and titles and Remus is reminded of their first train ride.

Albus gestures to Remus and Remus moves in front of Sirius.

“How was James’ and Lily’s secret keeper?” Remus starts.

“Peter Pettigrew.” Sirius states, in the same empty voice.

He continues to question Sirius like this, until all the facts he’d shared with Remus are proven true. Sirius hadn’t betrayed them.

Remus can’t help himself, even with Albus standing right there, and he asks one more question.

“Did you really love me?” his voice cracks at _love_ , and he looks away, but that same empty voice replies with a simple “yes” and he can’t take it anymore. He slumps to the floor where he stands, sitting down and feeling like the whole world has been put upside down. He feels his heart break at the thought, the _fact_ , that Sirius hadn’t betrayed him, betrayed them. No, instead, all of them, him, Minerva, Albus, the Order, they had betrayed Sirius by believing him capable of this.

Albus clamps a hand on his shoulder, trying for comfort maybe, and Remus is vaguely aware of him administering the antidote to Sirius.

It isn’t until Sirius crumbles down right beside him, reaching out with tentative arms that Remus really lets himself break down.

It’s really true. His mate didn’t betray him.

He thinks Albus Floos out, but he’s not sure. He’s not sure of anything, as he sits on his kitchen floor, arms wrapped around the way too skinny man whom he’s tried so hard to hate for the last three years. It feels so good, so freeing to finally let go of that. He’d never managed it anyway.

He couldn’t hate his mate.

“Never letting you go again.” He whispers to Sirius and feels the other man sob in return.

They’ve got a long way to go, and Remus knows there are unpleasant conversations waiting for them but all that matters in this moment is that Sirius is there.

Remus isn’t alone.

He hasn’t lost everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to end this here for now. Might make this a series at some point, writing the aftermath here, Sirius and Remus reigniting their relationship, where they stand on Harry now, so on, but for now, I'm happy to end this here. A little angsty thing.


End file.
